Apex Sunburn

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Interactions: Roman @ReusableSword
Time: Around 3 pm

Had the man not spoken, Sjan-dehk would’ve likely never noticed him. So dense was the shuffling crowd and so distracted was his mind that the near-collision had gone utterly unnoticed. Even the man’s offered apology almost went unanswered had Sjan-dehk not picked it out – and only just – amongst the thrum of a myriad of simultaneous conversations. He turned, ready and with the intention to politely dismiss what was really a non-issue.

The first thought that crossed Sjan-dehk’s mind upon laying eyes on the man was that this was a person ill-suited for life aboard a ship. His considerable height and build would’ve likely made navigating the short and cramped lower decks torturous. That said nothing of the space he’d need for his berth, or the troubles he would have with low-hanging tackles that would surely come loose during rough winds.

The second thought through Sjan-dehk’s mind was directed more towards himself. Just how could he not notice such a man? He towered above the milling crowd, with few standing up to his shoulders. Sjan-dehk berated himself mentally. To allow his mind to wander off so simply because he was away from his ship was unbecoming of a Viserjantan sailor, let alone a captain. An unfocused mind, after all, was of little use to anyone, least of all himself.

Granted, it didn’t help that he didn’t have anything upon which to focus his mind, but that sounded like an excuse concocted by his mind for himself. It probably was.

He was just about to tell the man that he really didn’t need to apologise – they hadn’t even bumped into each other, after all – when his weapons and his origin were brought up. Sjan-dehk couldn’t help the little grin that crept onto his face. If there was one thing he took particular pride in, it was keeping his arms properly maintained and always ready to impress. Functionally and materially speaking, they were nothing special. No prestigious smith or carpenters had worked on them. No rare metals or woods were used in their construction. They were simply very well cared for. Sjan-dehk had always believed that that would be reflected in their appearance, and this man’s brief comment felt like vindication.

With a quick flick of a thumb, he pushed one sword out of its sheath just enough to show a gleaming sliver of its blade. Single-edged and backed by a heavy and solid spine, the straight sabre was a weapon built to cleave and slash. In Sjan-dehk’s hands, it performed both with magnificent viciousness, much to the woe of his enemies. “Yes, beautiful,” he agreed, voice carrying with the sort of proudness of a parent boasting about their child. “Used them a lot. Many battles They ah…have been on me? With me for very long time.”

The man’s own weapons didn’t escape Sjan-dehk’s notice. A person’s choice of arms often reflected their nature, and Sjan-dehk could see that adage in action with this man. There was little doubt in his mind that the sword the man carried would be a heavy, two-handed weapon in the hands of anyone else. Even the shield he carried looked like it could be a small roof. That he could carry both as if they were just regular arms was impressive. Very much so.

Sjan-dehk pressed a hand to his chest and dipped his head in a shallow bow. “Wasun Sjan-dehk. Fourth Lesser Marquis of Jafi, of the Viserjantan Commonwealth.” He introduced himself. How many times had he repeated those very words today? He’d lost count. He nodded towards the man’s arms. “You? You are going to ah…A fight? Think you would win.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Interactions:
Time: Around 3 pm

The Sada Kurau was, by Viserjantan maritime standards, an odd ship. Granted, her keel hadn’t been laid in any of the Commonwealth’s many shipyards, and she surely wasn’t an indigenous design by any stretch of the imagination. Even so, most captains who chose captured vessels as their commands usually did their utmost to crew and equip them according to conventional naval practices. As much as one could, in any case.

Not Sjan-dehk, however. Of course, he didn’t have much choice in the matter; overly-long for her narrow beam and with a sail plan that exuded speed and agility, the Sada Kurau brooked no argument over the manner in which she took to the seas. She was a ship that accepted no masters, only patient equals who understood that she was a ship one learned to work with, rather than controlled. Sjan-dehk, for the most part, was perfectly happy with that arrangement. It had brought him from victory to victory, and she had saved his crew and himself from violent and premature ends more times than he could count.

Still, the relationship wasn’t perfect. There were a few quirks here and there that Sjan-dehk wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. As he stood on the quarterdeck, looking out over his assembled crew, one such unfavourable trait made itself painfully obvious.

To work the Sada Kurau’s complicated system of ropes and sails required a significantly larger crew of riggers than was necessary for a ship of her size. Coupled with her odd proportions, it meant that when all of the crew were assembled on deck – such as now – she looked almost comically overcrowded. Not only was her main deck choked with men standing shoulder-to-shoulder, those who had no place to stand had to either stand precariously on her gunwale or even cling to her stays and ratlines.

Sjan-dehk wasn’t too worried about the men in such positions – most of them were experienced riggers who knew how to keep themselves safe. Besides, they were in the calm waters of a harbour. More than anything, it was the apparent disorganisation that irked him.

All the more reason for him to get through this bit of formality quickly.

He drew in a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his hands on the guardrail. “All of you should know what I’m about to say. We are, however, the first of our people to make tracks through a city that’s not part of our islands, so I’d advise every one of you to listen up and listen close. We don’t want to be the reason why these fine people–” he jerked a thumb towards the city “–think of us Viserjantans as lousy guests, now do we?”

A murmur of assent rippled through the crowd, accompanied by nodding heads and a scattering of light chuckles. “So,” Sjan-dehk continued and stood up straight, hands behind his back. “It is my duty as your captain to remind you of naval regulations regarding going ashore.” He had said these same words so many times that they didn’t roll off his tongue as much as they burst forth in a droning torrent. “Most, if not all of you, would likely spend much of your time away from your ship. However, bear in mind that you are still bound by Viserjantan law. More importantly, you are still subject to the naval code of conduct. It is thus requested of you that you act as you would in any Viserjantan city. If myself, or any of my officers find out that you’ve been misbehaving, we will not hesitate to take all necessary actions to enforce discipline.”

The implication in his words were clear, but looking at the crew, he may as well have been giving them an update about the weather. Sjan-dehk didn’t blame them; this was a spiel – albeit with some adjustments here and there to fit their current situation – he had to go through every time they pulled into harbour. He didn’t doubt that the older members of his crew could likely recite everything by heart. Still, Sjan-dehk was bound by duty to give them timely reminders.

“Start no conflicts. Be honest in trade. Return what is borrowed. Compensate what you damage. Touch neither thread nor grain. So long as you abide by these five points of attention, all will be in harmony and all will be well.” It was a very brief summary of the code of conduct – one not endorsed by the navy – but it served Sjan-dehk’s purpose well enough. Much as Sjan-dehk wanted to, he couldn’t take the credit for it; his old captain had been the one who first used it, according to naval rumours.

Now, he could move on to what he really wanted to say. “I don’t think I’m lying when I say that I doubt most of us can speak a damn in the local tongue.” He deliberately paused, as if waiting for someone to prove him wrong. Nobody did. “It’s also too late for me to order you all to start learning, so this is how things are going to work. I’ll leave how you want to talk to the locals up to you. You want to use gestures, draw them a picture, or even a whole damn smoke signal, I don’t care.”

That got a few more chuckles from the crew, but they quickly silenced themselves when Sjan-dehk gazed at them with a steely glare. “But if you get into trouble with the law, I expect all of you to cooperate. Even if they insist that you must sit behind bars. I want no trouble while we’re here. Moreso if their laws and their courts get involved. For my part, I will do my best to come quickly to get you out. Of course, if you really did break a law, then there’s not much I can do, so use your reason and think before you act.”

Sjan-dehk thought back to the king. It was often said that the ruler of a land was a reflection of the values held dear by the people. He had found it to be true more often than not, but he hoped that Sorian would be an exception. Then again, the one person who seemed genuinely pleasant had been Saiya, and she could hardly be called a local of these lands. The women who harassed her, however…

He shook his head slightly. It was unbecoming of him to judge an entire people based on just one brief interaction. “These people have ways different to ours,” he said simply. Then, he turned around. Most of his senior crew were standing behind him, with the exception of Hai-shuun. The carpenter had insisted on staying aboard the Celestine for a little while longer with a handful of his men to ensure that every tool and material they had brought with them was accounted for and properly returned. “Any of you have anything to tell the men?”

“No, captain,” Azwan replied on behalf of the others.

Sjan-dehk nodded and turned back to the crew. “Alright, I suppose we’re done here. Just one more thing before you all leave. We’ll be going on a fishing trip tomorrow morning. I expect us to leave before sunrise, so make sure you’re back aboard before then. Make sure you get enough sleep, too. I don’t want to see anyone sleeping tomorrow morning.” He stood back and grinned. “I catch anyone napping while we’re out, I’m making you bait.”

He turned around to the sound of his men’s laughter. “Azwan,” he called out. The first officer replied with a crisp and smart salute. “You may dismiss the crew, then you may dismiss yourself.” Sjan-dehk chewed on his lip for a moment as he considered his next words. Or more accurately, as he worked himself up to say them. “I’m going to take a look around the city. Sada Kurau is…Yours.” He nodded to each of his senior officers, even to the diminutive Sohn-dahn. “I will let you all settle the rostering out yourselves, but I want at least one of you to be on board and in charge at any given time.”

“Understood, captain,” Azwan replied. “First watch will be mine. I understand the rest have duties that will take them ashore.”

Dai-sehk pushed his glasses further up his nose. Dressed in an immaculate blue coat over white clothes, he looked as if he was trying to match the clear skies overhead. “I need to move some of the wounded to somewhere suitable ashore. That may take me all day if my fates do not align.”

“Do they ever, master Dai-sehk?” came Sahm-tehn’s dry response. That earned him a mischievous smirk from Avek, and even a sliver of a smile from Mursi. “Fortune, as I recall from your own words, takes joy in pissing on you.”

Sjan-dehk quickly interjected. “Like I said, how you want to split watch duties amongst yourselves is up to you. As long as I have a Sada Kurau to come back to and nothing bad happens to her while I’m away, I’ll be more than satisfied.” He paused and regarded each man – and boy – with a stern look. “Please, don’t disappoint me.” Though he intended to sound serious, it didn’t escape him that his words may have came out sounding a lot more pleading than he would have liked.

Azwan offered him a smile. Likely, he meant it to be reassuring, but Sjan-dehk didn’t feel it. “We won’t let you down, captain. Sada Kurau is home to us as well. We’ll be sure to keep her safe.”

“I’ll take your word for it, first officer.” Sjan-dehk saluted his men, and they replied in kind. As per tradition, he then turned and quickly jogged down the steps onto the main deck. Only when both his feet were upon the wooden planks of the dock did he hear Azwan loudly dismiss the crew. Normally, Sjan-dehk would’ve been the one to give the order. And normally, Sjan-dehk would’ve been amongst the buzz of activity that now wafted from the deck, wandering across and between decks to supervise work. That, or spend time planning their next course of action.

Sjan-dehk let out a long sigh as he walked towards the city. Though not as well-armed as before, he still had his two swords and a pair of pistols at his hip. It was enough to attract some curious and concerned stares, but he paid them no heed. He barely noticed them. Part of his mind was still ruminating on what he would be doing now were he aboard his Sada Kurau. The rest of it was trying to think of something useful he could do whilst ashore. Exploring aimlessly wasn’t going to do him – or anyone – any favours.

He looked up at the castle in the distance, peeking over tiled roofs. Well, he was here now. On land, in a strange city, and every step bringing him further away from the familiarity of his ship without even the hint of a plan. Sjan-dehk picked a direction, and started walking. With luck, he would find something that would keep his ship and crew occupied over the coming days. If not, then he just hoped he would find something interesting.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Interactions: Marciano@Alivefalling Oswald @princess
Time: 1 pm

At last, some progress.

Sjan-dehk watched in silence as the prisoners were herded off the Celestine. Each heavy, trudging step brought them further and further away from the ship, and ever-so-slightly lightened the weight which had been resting upon his shoulders. Where were they going? What would happen to them? Such questions lingered far in the back of Sjan-dehk’s mind, and he made no attempt to pay them anything beyond the most cursory of heeds. If the Caesonians were anything like the Viserjantans, it would be a simple matter of putting the former pirates to work. Under their past victims, if at all possible. Let them pay off the debts incurred by their actions through labour, and redeem themselves through blood and sweat.

But really, how the Caesonians dealt with the prisoners was none of Sjan-dehk’s concern. This was their land and their city, and so their laws were all that mattered. Surely, they had a system of justice that could dole out fair and appropriate punishments. At least, Sjan-dehk hoped so. He couldn’t imagine King Edin lasting too long otherwise.

He mentally shrugged those thoughts away. True, Edin was a colourful man to say the least, but it was still inappropriate – rude, even – to think ill of him whilst a guest of his, even if only tangentially. Instead, he turned his attention to the last of the king’s men still aboard. “Master Hai-shuun,” he called out with a quick glance to his carpenter. “Stand the men down. If there’s anyone still working, tell them to stop what they’re doing and come up on deck. Let’s not disturb our guest while he’s having a look around.”

“Understood, captain.” Hai-shuun snapped off a quick salute before marching off.

Compared to the wreck that she was just days ago, the Celestine as she appeared now was an absolute gem. Even so, it didn’t take a trained eye to tell that she still needed plenty of work if she was to ever take to the seas as a proper ship-of-war again. Or just as a proper ship in general, even. Fresh planks nailed over gaping holes in the hull could only do so much, and that said nothing of the severely damaged mast that needed replacing. Of course, the former was far more obvious than the latter, miraculous as it was. It wasn’t an exaggeration when Sjan-dehk thought that they were only a day or two’s sail away from the tall piece of timber cracking under the strain of sailing and coming crashing through the hull like a butcher’s cleaver through a haunch of meat.

That was all the more reason for this Oswald to see the damage below decks.

Sjan-dehk offered the man a friendly smile. “Please ah…Feel free to look.” He stepped to the side and motioned for Oswald to come through, vaguely gesturing towards the narrow flight of steps leading into the ship’s dark interior. “We are not yet done…Fixing the ship. Only fix enough to sail here. Bottom decks is where we ah…Damaged her most. You should see. Know what you need.” He paused for a moment to give Oswald a chance to parse his halting speech, and also to consider his next words. “To fix, yes? If the king wants to keep her.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Interactions: Marciano@Alivefalling
Time: 1 pm

The Prisoner

One last prize, that was what the captain had said.

One final attempt at riches on the high seas, that was all he had asked for. Win or lose, they would all go home and lead the lives of honest landsmen till their final days. Never again would their fates and fortunes be left in the hands of something as capricious as the open sea. Never again would they have to toil with the spectre of capture and death haunting them at every juncture. No more weevil-infested biscuits; no more salted meat that was more mineral than food. Just quiet, peaceful lives for men who have had more than their fill of blood and adventure.

At least, that was what the captain had promised. In hindsight, Sean realised that he’d been a fool to trust the crafty old man. Well into his fourth decade and looking easily twice that age, Sean had sailed with the Celestine since the day she turned pirate. In all that time, he could count the number of promises kept by her captain on one hand. Though if Sean had to be fair, none of that was because the captain was a liar, but rather, because lady fortune simply didn’t seem to like them all that much.

And it was more like than not because of that very same poor luck that Sean found himself here, locked in the brig of his former ship alongside with what remained of his former crewmates. Damp, musty air laden with the stench of days-unwashed bodies filled his nose with each breath. Gnarled and uneven wood pressed into his back and head as he struggled in vain to find a comfortable position to sit.

A stifled, halting sob escaped one of the younger men. “Stop that,” Sean snapped and leaned the back of head against the hull with a sigh. Despair was like a disease to men like them. Let one person succumb to it and soon everyone would be begging on death’s door for entry. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. He needed every last one of them fit and ready if they ever hoped to get out of here. “Crying won’t be getting us anywhere.”

“He’s right. We’re alive, aye?” Someone else piped up, much to Sean’s relief. “That’s better than what–”

“You’ve said enough. Be quiet.” Sean interjected quickly. No one needed a reminder as to the fates of the unfortunate few who had been singled-out by their former victims. He doubted he’d ever forget the pitiful pleas for mercy each man bellowed at the top of their lungs just before they were unceremoniously thrown overboard and dragged along the length of Celestine. Worse still was the lone survivor, who with his dying breath begged for a quick death even as Sean and the rest of his fellows were forced at musket-point to lash him to a raft, then push him out into the open sea.

Sean squeezed his eyes shut and did his best to force those memories from his mind. Now was not the time for him to be reminiscing about such dark things. He needed to keep his spirits up and his mind sharp if he wanted to escape. He drew in a deep breath and folded his arms across his chest. Where could they go from here?

Everything was fine, for now. They were fed – not well, but enough to put strength in their muscles – and were allowed to go on deck to work on repairing Celestine. More than a few of his fellows wanted to seize the chance and use the tools given to them to attempt an armed breakout, but Sean had managed to cool those hot-blooded individuals. It was suicide, he had told them. They were under guard for the most part by armed sailors, and even if they managed to jump into the harbour, where could they go? They were in Sorian; wherever they swam to would likely end with them in shackles or worse.

No, Sean knew they needed to play the long game. These foreigners likely needed them to not only fix up the ship, but also to navigate these waters. They wouldn’t have put prisoners to work, otherwise. As long as Sean and his fellows could prove their worth, they would be kept alive. That was the first step in the right direction. The next would be to curry some favour with their captors, at least until they were given a greater degree of freedom and assigned more tasks. After that, it would simply be a matter of waiting until the right time to simply either sail away with the Celestine or make a run for it and disappear into the dark streets of Sorian’s poorer quarters.

The squeak of rusted metal pulled Sean from his thoughts. Dented and pitted bars rattled as the cell door was pulled open by an armed and armoured guard. “On your feet, boys,” Sean said with a grunt as he pushed himself up from the floor. “Looks like they’ve got more work for us. Let’s give them no trouble now, aye?” A scattering of muttered acknowledgements – some more disgruntled than others – was his fellows’ response.

He knew it was a hard thing for them to do, to bite their tongue and hold their anger, and so he waited until everyone else had left before stepping out of the cell himself. That they weren’t shackled or restrained in any way, shape, or form was a great boon for his plans, and the last thing he needed was for a hot-head to start something and get them all clapped in irons.

They trudged in a single file up the steep steps leading up to the main deck, escorted by a pair of heavily armed guards. One led the way, and the other marched close to Sean’s heels. Judging by the position of the sun, Sean surmised that not much time had passed since they had been corralled back to their cell. A deep frown came over his face. Why then, had they been ordered to go below decks? Surely it would’ve been more efficient to simply let them carry on with their work.

“Ah, Hai-shuun dahnshi. Saidahkehn tiaka jai?” Sean recognised that voice. It was one he had learned to both fear and revile in equal measure. Leaning over and looking past the shoulders of the men in front of him, he caught sight of the last man he wanted to see. Youthful, dark-eyed, and always with that damnable smile on his face, it was the captain of the ship that had so utterly devastated Celestine during that fateful morning in the mist. Sean had watched him cut a swathe through his ship’s crew with his twin blades with nary any effort, and sentence three men to death with as much gravity as one might have when discussing the weather.

Suffice to say, Sean felt his stomach sink. That man’s presence couldn’t mean anything good for Sean and his fellow prisoners. Still, he forced himself to remain optimistic. As long as they were allowed to continue working on the ship and retain what little freedom they had, his plans could remain as they were.

“Akah, maksashi.” The voice that replied to the captain was a more welcome one. Sean knew him only as the engineer or carpenter of their captors’ ship, but he was a decent enough man to work under. True, he worked them hard, but not any harder than his own men, and he was less liberal with the lash than what Sean had expected. Even so, he wasn’t a man to be crossed. From what Sean had heard from those who had witnessed him fight during the boarding action, this carpenter was just as vicious and lethal a fighter as his captain.

As was the rest of the foreign crew, for that matter. Sean doubted any of them had yet to see their fourth or even third decades, but they fought like veterans of countless battles. Even if the Celestine had twice the crew she had during the fight, Sean doubted they would’ve been able to come out victorious.

The guard behind him gave Sean a hard shove with his musket, almost sending him sprawling to the deck and pulling a surprised yelp from his lips. “Alright, no need for that,” Sean grumbled beneath his breath as he found his footing and, taking that sudden push as a sign, started moving forward with the rest of his fellow prisoners. Just what was going on here? This all felt strange, almost foreboding. What was going on that needed that other captain’s presence? Surely it wasn’t something serious; the man didn’t seem to be in much of a bother.

Then, Sean caught sight of the Caesonians waiting for him, and his heart crashed through the bottom of his stomach and into the depths of his bowels. His mouth went dry, and his mind raced even as his body continued moving on its own. Whatever plans he had, whatever prospects he had of escape, disappeared in an instant. He had no illusions as to where they would be going, and what would happen to them. If they were lucky, a quick death at the end of a noose awaited them. If not…Well, Sean had heard stories. He just wished that he never had to find out first-hand if they were true or not. Regardless, whatever hopes they had of escaping vanished in that one instant.

One last prize, his captain had said. If Sean had the mind to, he would’ve laughed. If only someone had told them that they were the prize in question.

–

Sjan-dehk stood to one side as the prisoners filed past him. Though unshackled, none of them made a bid for freedom as he had expected. Perhaps the last few days of backbreaking work had thoroughly broken their will, or perhaps they were still unaware of their fates. Either way, it didn’t matter. It made things that little bit easier for him, and that was all Sjan-dehk cared about. Besides, it wouldn’t look good on him or his crew if a troublemaker decided to cause a scene in front of their Caesonian guests.

“Damn, I forgot to tell the guards to shackle them.” Standing beside him, Hai-shuun clicked his tongue and folded his arms.

A grin flashed across Sjan-dehk’s lips. “Too late for that, now. Next time, eh?” As far as he was concerned, it didn’t matter whether the prisoners were restrained or not. Where could they go? They were practically surrounded on all sides by armed men, and the only routes open to them were the harbour or the pier. Any attempt to escape now would be tantamount to suicide.

The last man to pass Sjan-dehk was a grey-bearded elder with a vacant look in his eyes. His mouth hung open, as if trying to say something but unable to form the words in his throat. Be it fear or trepidation, something or other caused his hands to tremble uncontrollably. Sjan-dehk arched his brow as he watched the man. Whatever these Caesonians did to their prisoners must be quite something. He couldn’t recall any prisoner reacting in such a manner even after he had two of their own keelhauled to death and the third sentenced to a slow death on the open seas.

“Do not be sad,” he called out after the elderly man. “We send you home. Good, no?”

The man didn’t turn back to look at him.

Sjan-dehk’s crew lined the prisoners up in front of the two Caesonians and stepped a fair distance back with hands on muskets, axe handles, or sword hilts. If the prisoners so much as twitched in a suspicious manner, Sjan-dehk had no doubts that they would be cut down in mere moments. Perhaps they were being overly-cautious, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. He nodded his thanks to his men and walked around the prisoners towards the man who had asked about the prisoners.

“They are here.” He stepped to one side and gestured to the line men. Dishevelled and filthy, they looked as if they were one day away from being outright diseased. Yet, they still looked robust, strong, and more than capable of hard labour. Sjan-dehk knew that last one for a fact. “They are your…People, yes? So we give back to you.” He paused for a moment. To call them a gift wouldn’t be accurate; as he had said, they were simply being returned to Caesonia to be tried under Caesonian law. Most of them, at least. At the same time, Sjan-dehk wasn’t quite sure how best to put that into words the two men could understand.

And so, he just nodded and said, “Yes, gifts.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Interactions: Oswald@princess
Time: 1 pm

Sjan-dehk kept a respectable distance as he followed Oswald about the Celestine. The Caesonian laid his eyes on many things with a scrutinising gaze, but said nothing. Neither did his impassive face give away much of what he felt. The odd narrowing of the eyes here, an occasional twitch of the lip there, but nothing concrete. Nothing that told Sjan-dehk about the confirmed fate of the ship.

Beside him, Hai-shuun harrumphed and crossed his arms. “I’m not trying to be rude, captain,” he began, and Sjan-dehk immediately prepared himself to give the man a muted admonishment. “But do you think he knows what he’s even looking at?”

“I’m sure the king would’ve sent an expert,” Sjan-dehk replied in a murmur. He kept his tone and words as neutral as possible, but even was beginning to question Oswald’s knowledge of naval affairs. Surely, he would’ve by now noticed the many flaws and absolutely dismal state of the Celestine, and should’ve said something about it. She was in no state to be presented to a pauper, let alone royalty or even anyone only just tangentially related to the court, and Sjan-dehk knew it. She needed more time, more work.

Hai-shuun followed Oswald’s gaze up to the sails and the ratty lines that lashed them somewhat securely to their yardarms. From a distance, they looked presentable enough. Up close however, it was clear that everything – from sailcloth to hemp rope – was in dire need of replacement. “Well, I hope he’ll get this over and done with quickly. If we’re keeping this ship, I want us to start work on her before the sun goes down.”

As if on cue, the Caesonian turned to them and spoke. "Forgive my inquiry, but I was curious to know if the presentation of this vessel is intended as a gift for His Majesty, or if it is only available for acquisition at a stated cost."

And there it was. Hai-shuun needn’t worry about fixing up the Celestine. Even with a rough understanding of the local tongue, Sjan-dehk could tell that the ship wasn’t going to be his for much longer. It was not an outcome he hadn’t expected, but it was a disappointing one nonetheless. Though it likely wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been; if Aislin’s words were to be believed, the waters further out were teeming with small-time pirates and other nautical never-do-wells. There would be more chances for his crew to catch themselves a prize decent enough to add to their little flotilla.

“Master Hai-shuun, where did you put the prisoners?” Sjan-dehk asked his carpenter quietly.

“In the hold, captain. I have them tarring minor leaks.”

“Well, have them brought up,” the captain said and tilted his head towards Oswald. “I think we’re just about done with business here.”

Hai-shuun nodded. “Aye, captain.” With that, he snapped to a quick salute and left.

Sjan-dehk shifted his attention to the Caesonian. “Is a gift.” He said those words as if they were the most obvious thing in the world. Edin owned this city and, presumably, the waters around it. What sort of captain would he be if he demanded payment for this first prize? If anyone was paying anything, it would be him paying the king for the right to keep the Celestine, but Sjan-dehk wasn’t about to do that. She was a good ship, but not that good. “No payment. Your king can ah…Have it. If it is good enough for him.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Interactions: @AliveFalling
Time: 1 pm

No king? Sjan-dehk wasn’t sure if it was annoyance or delight that filled his heart. On the one hand, it meant that his crew’s over-hurried toil had been all for naught. On the other, it made the royal tutor look laughably foolish, and that was always something he could cheer for.

Ultimately, he decided on a mix of both emotions. The smile on his face was welcoming, but irritation laid shallow in his heart. How good of a king could this Edin be, if his royal word was only as good as sodden gunpowder? For a task as simple as a mere walk through his own city, no less. “Stand the men down,” he said in a low voice to Mursi, his eyes never leaving the two men standing on the pier alongside their small contingent of guards. Royal guards, Sjan-dehk noted. Their uniforms were not unlike the ones he had seen at the castle.

“Welcome to Sada Kurau. I am Wasun Sjan-dehk. Her captain.” Sjan-dehk called back, holding up a hand. “We ah…We thought the king was coming.” He pointed to the Celestine across from him and behind the men. “No need to come. Ship to inspect is over there. Wait. I bring you.” Behind him, Mursi barked a rapid series of commands. They were followed by plenty of grousing by the sharpshooters, but also an equal amount of relieved comments from the very same men.

“Young marcher prince, should we not invite them aboard?” The royal tutor asked in a mutter.

Sjan-dehk offered a minute, almost unnoticeable shrug in response. “There’s no reason for them to. Only reason the king would’ve come aboard was to inspect the Sudah’s goods. These–” he surreptitiously tilted his chin towards the two men. “–people said they want to inspect the Celestine.”

The tutor’s face wrinkled in a frown. “Still, it would be polite–”

“The king’s showing us what politeness gets us in this city, most knowledgeable one.” There was a bite in Sjan-dehk’s words, but in truth, he didn’t feel particularly slighted. In fact, the king’s absence saved him the headache of having to use polite speech and perform the usual courtly nonsense. Granted, it would’ve all been greatly truncated – a ship’s captain was a king of kings when aboard their vessel, of course – but it would’ve still been a trouble he’d rather go without. Even so, he would’ve appreciated it if the king could at least keep true to his word.

“They look like the king’s men,” the tutor pointed out. “We should treat them properly, at the very least.”

“And I’m our queen’s captain. We’re equally matched, wouldn’t you agree?” Sjan-dehk flashed the old man a mischievous grin before starting to make his way down the gangplank. He hadn’t been joking; the king’s men were here to inspect the Celestine, and that was what Sjan-dehk would help them do. No more, no less. Once he was closer, he gave them a slight bow of his head that could be seen as apologetic. “I must tell my men you are here. Excuse me.”

Sjan-dehk walked around them until he was at the base of the Celestine’s gangplank. Looking up, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Master Hai-shuun! The king’s men are here!”

The response was instant. “Yes, captain! The ship’s ready for inspection!”

That was quite the overstatement, to say the least. None of it was Hai-shuun’s or the crew’s fault; there was only so much they could do with the time afforded to them. Even standing on the pier, it was clear from the discoloured planking that the Celestine had seen far, far better days. Though her sails had been neatly furled and lashed to their yardarms, the gaping holes shot through them were still easily visible to even an untrained eye. That said nothing of the thin cracks appearing like vines gripping the hull which were, put simply, impossible to fix without more time and materials.

It would have to do. Besides, Sjan-dehk didn’t want her to look too good.

“This way,” he said and beckoned for the two men to follow him up the gangplank. “My men did their best, but ah…You can see she is still not good.”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Around 1 pm

Polished brightwork gleamed beneath the glare of the early afternoon sun. Neatly bundled ropes creaked as they swayed with their heavy tackles in the gentle breeze. Furled and tightly lashed, the Sada Kurau’s distinctive crimson sails looked like giant caterpillars clinging to their yardarms. Her crew had performed their tasks handsomely and far beyond what Sjan-dehk had expected. With just little over an hour to prepare for a royal visit, he would’ve been satisfied had they simply swabbed the decks and patched up the more obvious damages.

He would have to give the men a well-deserved reward later.

“Kan sedarjah, tapat! Tapat sedarjah!” The terse parade commands felt strange on his tongue even as he shouted them. There just wasn’t that much use for them aboard his ship. His Sada Kurau spent almost all her time at sea and on patrol. Matters of decorum were well at the bottom of Sjan-dehk’s list of priorities and besides, the annual naval reviews and occasional parades rarely involved small ships like his. That suited him just fine; Sjan-dehk wanted sailors of substance, not just those who looked nice in overly-clean uniforms and knew only how to march in cadence.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel frustration welling in his chest as he watched the half-dozen men before him fumble with their rifles. Looking at how they clumsily brought their weapons off their shoulders and held it vertically before their faces, one would be hard-pressed to believe that these same men were capable of putting a bullet squarely between the eyes of a man from over two hundred paces away.

“These are the best we have, are they?” Sjan-dehk asked in a dry murmur, his voice only just audible over the clacking of arms and barely-restrained swearing of the chosen sharpshooters.

Standing beside him, Mursi nodded sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, captain.” Even in just two words, the apologetic tone of his voice was evident. “They’re the only ones who remember their drills. It’s been a long time since we’ve had to go on parade, captain.” He visibly cringed as one of his men failed to grasp their rifle properly and dropped it. “I’ll be sure to schedule more drill–”

“Don’t bother,” Sjan-dehk interrupted with a shake of his head. “I doubt we’ll be doing more of this. We can just have them stand at attention next time. No need for this pointless fucking about.”

“This ‘fucking about’ – as you put it, young marcher prince – is what will give our guests their very first impressions about our illustrious navy.” From Sjan-dehk’s other side came the sharp words of the last voice he wanted to hear. “A navy which – if I may remind you, young marcher prince – you swore to uphold the honour and dignity of.”

“Yes, yes, most knowledgeable one. I remember my oath.” Sjan-dehk didn’t even bother hiding the disdain and impatience in his voice when he responded to the royal tutor. The old man’s presence on the launch that had ferried Avek and Mursi back from the Sudah had been a surprise, and it had taken no time at all for Sjan-dehk to realise that it was, unfortunately, of the unpleasant sort. Against his very vocal and very colourful protests, the royal tutor had insisted that his Sada Kurau offer the king a proper welcome worthy of his stature. An obvious decision to some, perhaps, but all Sjan-dehk cared about was that they had only just finished a long and arduous journey. An unnecessary parade was the last thing his crew needed.

He placed his hands on his hips and chewed on his lip as he surveyed the men. Their uniforms were clean enough for a simple inspection, but certainly not for a parade. They’d need more steaming and pressing for that. It was the best they could manage, and so it would have to do. “Paansilan!” Sjan-dehk shouted, and after a brief pause, the men shuffled back to their previous stance – feet together, rifles slung behind their right shoulder, and a hand on the strap. Sjan-dehk waited for a moment, then shouted the command for an armed salute once more.

As expected, the sharpshooters were far from fluid and crisp in their motions. A little smoother and with less fumbling than before, Sjan-dehk had to admit, but far from what was acceptable. It would have been amusing to watch were the situation not so dire. The king and his entourage were surely already on their way. Time was running out. “See?” Sjan-dehk gestured to the men and turned to look at the royal tutor. “If they’re not getting it now, they’re not getting it by the time the king gets here. We can have them just stand at attention and look…Soldier-like. It was good enough for other kings, why not this one?”

“Self-proclaimed kings,” the royal tutor pointed out. “None of them recognised as such by anyone other than themselves, and from what I’ve been told, all of them you later killed in battle.” Sjan-dehk looked back at the sharpshooters and said nothing. Unperturbed, the tutor continued. “This is an actual king, seen by his people as their liege, and whose lands we are currently guests of. Surely even you can see that there is a marked difference, young marcher prince. We must show the proper decorum.”

Sjan-dehk snorted. “Only thing we’re showing at this rate is our bare arses in the wind.”

“Might make for a better salute,” Mursi quipped. “At least they’ll leave laughing instead of thinking that we’re the worst sailors to have ever graced their harbour.”

That brought a smirk to Sjan-dehk’s lips. “They know almost nothing about us. We could probably feed them some horseshit about how that’s our ways and they’d buy it wholesale.”

“Yes, and they’d think of Viserjanta as a land of uncivilised barbarians.” It was clear by the royal tutor’s tone that he didn’t see the humour in the captain’s suggestion, unlike Mursi, who could barely contain his laughter. He tilted his chin towards the assembled sharpshooters. “We still have time, young marcher prince. I’m sure a man of your calibre can instil them with the discipline to perfect their movements.”

“Oh, you flatter me, most knowledgeable one,” Sjan-dehk replied flatly. He wasn’t even completely sure that he could remember the proper procedure to greet the king. At least, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t forget it all in the heat of the moment.

Well, that could be a problem for later. As just one person, he could probably just make something up on the spot and the king would be none the wiser. These sharpshooters, however, needed to at least move in full unison lest they look like a bunch of uncoordinated fools. “Paansilan,” he said with a sigh. It was unlikely the men would be able to get the salute down perfectly by the time the king arrived, but drilling them was the only way to shut the royal tutor up. He could always give them a change of instruction at the very last minute. The old man wouldn’t be able to stop him.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Around noon

As the sun slowly climbed to its zenith amidst the field of azure, so too did the heat with which it baked the Sada Kurau rise. In a vexing way, it puzzled Sjan-dehk. Here they were, so far away from and so far north of the Viserjantan islands, and yet it seemed as if the tropical sun had sneakily followed them. True, the air here was drier and it scorched rather than boiled, but the cooking of his back and the endless dripping of sweat from his brow felt all too familiar.

“That doesn’t look tight enough, captain.”

Sjan-dehk grumbled and untied the ropes he had been handling. Thin and tightly-wound, it – along with thousands like it – secured the Sada Kurau’s large, triangular sails to her willowy yards. Too loose, and a strong gust would be all it took to render her dead in the water. Still, he couldn’t help but stare daggers over his shoulder at Sahm-tehn. “You know, most people would find it strange that a master-of-sail can stand around doing fuck all while his captain works. Unethical, even.”

The weak rebuke simply washed over Sahm-tehn, and he looked unperturbed as he angled his pinned-up right sleeve to his captain. “As you say, captain. I’ll tie the sails securely with this then, shall I?” There was a bite to his words, and for a moment both men held their gazes, Sahm-tehn’s deadpan and cold against Sjan-dehk’s narrowed and piercing.

It was the latter who broke away first, sighing as he returned to his task. Much as it gnawed at him, he had to admit it; Sahm-tehn was justified in his displeasure. De-rigging, inspecting, then re-rigging an entire ship was a huge task that called for plenty of time and plenty of hands. They had neither. With Sohn-dahn and his boys, along with half of the gundeck sent across to aid Hai-shuun, part of the rigging crew had to be sent to cover their duties. All the same, the king’s men were due to arrive in practically no time at all, and they would surely be expecting a ship in prime condition.

“You’ve got a working pair of legs, haven’t you?” Much as Sjan-dehk was happy to let his crew openly air their discontent, they’d be fools if they believed he’d let them have the last word without a fight. He had to hold on to some of his captain’s honour and authority, after all. “Maybe I should’ve sent you to go shopping with master Avek instead.”

“Master Mursi is a skilled man, captain, but I wouldn’t trust him to inspect rigging.” Sahm-tehn spoke with a strange sort of mirthless levity. It sounded almost unnatural, as if he were fighting his nature to lighten their dire situation despite feeling all of the pressure on his shoulders.

Sjan-dehk replied with a similar chuckle. “No, I wouldn’t either.” He gave the rope one final tug, then stood up with a grunt and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Sahm-tehn leaned over and inspected the knot with scrutinising eyes. Sjan-dehk didn’t envy the man, to be honest. Every rope knotted and lashed, every tackle rigged, and every sail mended had to be personally checked and cleared by Sahm-tehn. It spoke volumes of his vast experience that he could do so with just his eyes, but even then it was tedious work. Under a sun that seemed to replace strength with lethargy in a man, no less. Sjan-dehk had long since taken off his shirt to cool himself, but Sahm-tehn insisted on remaining fully dressed. Dark hair wet and glistening with sweat, glued to his forehead, and slightly heaving shoulders, however, gave away his fatigue.

“It’ll do, captain,” the master-of-sail said at last with a shrug. “For now, at least. We may have to bring them all down again afterwards to make sure everything’s done properly.”

“We can only do what we can, master Sahm-tehn,” Sjan-dehk replied with a grimace as he squatted by the next length of rope to be tied. It wasn’t a question of ‘if’; he was certain that they would have to bring the yards down again once the king’s men were done with their business. He didn’t like it one bit – they risked damaging the yards every time they raised or lowered it – but it couldn’t be helped. Even a well-trained and experienced crew like his wouldn’t be able to do all that was needed to do with what little time they currently had.

He worked in silence for a while. Only the rustle of ropes, creaking of wood, and chatter of men broke the monotony. Sea birds gliding about aimlessly overhead cawed, their wings flapping languidly in the brisk seaward breeze. Eventually, however, Sahm-tehn cleared his throat and spoke. “Apologies, captain.” He paused for a moment and dipped his head in a bow. “I was rude earlier. It will not happen again.”

Sjan-dehk waved off the apology. “I deserve it, master Sahm-tehn. It’s mainly my own damn fault we’re in such a fucking rush.” He tightened the knot and beckoned for his master-of-sail over to inspect it. Once his work was given Sahm-tehn’s approval, he side-stepped over to the next segment of yard. “I think I told all of you this before, but I’d rather you be open with whatever’s pissing you off than keep it inside and, I don’t know, fucking explode some day. Just don’t go starting fights.” With one hand, he smoothed out the ruffles and wrinkles in the crimson sailcloth before starting to bind it to the yard. “So this had better happen again at some point, alright?”

“Yes, captain.”

Once again, Sjan-dehk worked in relative silence, only sharing the occasional word with Sahm-tehn when the latter checked his work. His fingers grew more dexterous and deft with each successive segment and before he knew it, he was almost at the end of the yard. Only a handful of ropes remained untied, but he took care to avoid the temptation to rush. He focused his mind entirely on the task at hand, muttering the steps beneath his breath and counting them out in his head until he achieved a steady rhythm.

And once again, it was Sahm-tehn who first spoke up. “So,” he began, and left the ending noticeable by its absence.

“So,” Sjan-dehk echoed.

“You met the king then, captain?”

“I did, yes.”

A pause. “What’s he like, captain?”

Sjan-dehk stopped what he was doing and looked up at Sahm-tehn with a quizzical look on his face. “Why do you ask, master Sahm-tehn?”

The master-of-sail didn’t meet his captain’s gaze. Instead, his eyes were turned towards the Sorian coast running eastwards, just beyond the starboard gunwale. “Just making conversation, captain,” he said and coughed into his fist.

Nodding slowly, Sjan-dehk returned to his work. “I see.” As he wove the rope into the sail, he considered his response. It was a tricky question, to say the least; even he wasn’t quite sure what he thought of King Edin. On the one hand, the king had shown him considerable courtesy. Yet on the other, his outbursts spoke of a rash and foul-tempered man. Truly a complex character, and one not so easily described after a single, rushed encounter. And so, Sjan-dehk decided to answer with what was typically best in situations like these. “Well,” he began with a vague shrug. “I showed up in his hall fully armed, interrupted his sons’ matchmaking session, but he was calm and polite enough. Then a girl tripped, dropped an onion, one of his sons ate the onion raw, and he fucking exploded. Called the guards to throw out the girl, and after that I wasn’t too keen on staying so I left as soon as I could. Tried to help the girl, failed, and got shown the door by the guards as well. That’s about it.”

Sahm-tehn’s face was blank, and he blinked once. There were so many questions swimming in his mind after his captain’s strange little tale that he couldn’t even choose one to ask first. “So this girl, she brought an onion to court the princes?” He asked hesitantly. Sjan-dehk nodded. “And this prince she spoke to, he picked it off the ground and ate it just like that?”

“Just like that,” the captain confirmed. “Peeled and ate the damn thing like its fruit.”

“Bloody madman,” Sahm-tehn replied with a shake of his head. “And just for that, this king sent his men to throw the girl out? Sounds like an overreaction to me, captain.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,” Sjan-dehk said with a frown. Just thinking about it irked him. King or not, there were just some things that weren’t right. If sending armed guards after an unarmed woman who had done nothing wrong didn’t fit that category, then he didn’t know what would.

“And he didn’t worry when you, an armed man, showed up in his court, but he rages at an onion?”

With a final tug, Sjan-dehk secured the sail to its yard. One done, and two more to go. Picking up the shirt that was more filthy rag than clothing beside him, he stood up and faced Sahm-tehn. “You could put it that way, yes,” he said as he wiped the sweat and grime from his body with it. To say that it was of little help would be an understatement. If anything, it seemed to do the exact opposite of what he wanted. “The king has strange priorities.”

“Doesn’t sound like that makes for a good king, captain, if I may say so.”

Sjan-dehk shrugged and draped the ruined shirt over his shoulder. “I agree, master Sahm-tehn, but it’s not our place to judge. As much as he reminds me of some of the bastards we fought, this king here is a real, actual king. Not some self-proclaimed turd with too much time on their hands. Besides, this isn’t anything for you to worry about. I’m the one who’ll likely have to be in his presence.” He folded his arms across his bare chest and tilted his chin towards his master-of-sail. “So, are you going to tell me the reason you’re asking all these questions?”

Just as before, Sahm-tehn averted his gaze. “Like I said, captain. Just making conversation.”

An impish smirk crept across Sjan-dehk’s face. “Come now, master Sahm-tehn. How long have we known each other?” He leaned his weight back and looked at Sahm-tehn with cheeky smugness. “Everyone here knows you’re never one for small talk. We’ve to pry every sentence from you most of the time, so forgive me, master Sahm-tehn, if I don’t believe that you’re simply making conversation.”

The two men stared at each other in silence for a moment, but eventually Sahm-tehn sighed. “Apologies, captain, I believed I was being subtle.”

Sjan-dehk’s smile widened. “We know each other far too well for it to work, master Sahm-tehn. You should have known that.” He stepped forward, the mischief in his face gradually fading until it was replaced by friendly concern as he patted Sahm-tehn’s shoulder. “What is it?”

It took a few moments before Sahm-tehn said anything. That alone was worrying; he was usually the one who had no problems telling things to Sjan-dehk straight with little tact. “The other officers and I have been discussing certain things, captain,” he began at last, and Sjan-dehk felt a pit of unease begin to open in his gut. Granted, it couldn’t be anything too serious; were that the case, they would have confronted him much sooner. Discontent amongst senior crewmembers, however, was never a good thing. Many a ship had fallen to mutiny and many a captain had met their end for that very reason.

Sahm-tehn continued. “As far as we know, we will be in harbour for a long time, and you will be assuming Lady Adiyan’s duties until she recovers, captain.” He paused, and Sjan-dehk nodded in agreement and gestured for him to continue. “You would have to spend more time on shore, correct?” Another nod. “So we were wondering if we could suggest a change in how we manage Sada Kurau, captain.”

The pit closed as quickly as it opened. It was just an administrative matter, and those were typically easy to resolve. Still, Sjan-dehk didn’t feel entirely comfortable. The crux of the matter eluded him. “You might have to elaborate, master Sahm-tehn. I don’t see a need for us to change anything. Azwan will take over my duties when I’m away, and the rest of you will simply carry on as per normal. What’s the problem?”

“It’s not a problem for now, captain, but what happens when you’re away for more than an hour or two, or even entire days?” Sahm-tehn kept his voice even and level, but the slight hesitation in his voice and how he averted his eyes every now and then gave away his trepidation. “You know as well as we do how these courtly affairs can drag on and on. With all respect, captain, you can’t foresee how long you’ll be away if you have to attend such things.”

That made sense. Sjan-dehk had yet to meet a punctual noble, or one who couldn’t find some silly excuse to make a party or meeting go on for far longer than they had any right to. “First of all,” Sjan-dehk began and patted Sahm-tehn on the shoulder again. “Relax. I’ve said it before, I’ve never gotten angry at any of you for speaking your mind before, and I don’t plan on starting now. Secondly, while you speak sense, the scenarios you speak of aren’t anything new to us. We’ve dealt with them before, we can do it again."

“True as that may be, captain, but we were in Viserjanta back then.” Sjan-dehk’s words must have worked on Sahm-tehn, as he now spoke in a far smoother and steadier manner. “We knew how things worked and more importantly, we knew the language. If we had an emergency, we could simply go to whatever hall you were in and ask for you. You should know how many times we’ve done that, captain. Here? We barely know how to communicate with these people.”

Sjan-dehk pinched the bridge of his nose and drew in a deep breath. Now he was finally beginning to see what Sahm-tehn was hinting at. In Viserjanta, he was always more-or-less available to his crew wherever he may be, which was exactly how he wanted it to be. True, excusing himself from a court full of nobles in favour of his crew and ship never earned him any favours, but it was at least openly acknowledged as an acceptable thing to do in Viserjanta. Perhaps that was also the case here in Caesonia, but they had no way of knowing. And even if was, his crew was unlikely to know enough of the language to negotiate their way through the castle gates.

“So,” he said and chewed on his lip. “If I’m correct, your concerns are that there might be times when I will be not only away, but completely cut off from Sada Kurau for long periods.”

“In so few words, yes, captain.”

For a man known to be taciturn and straightforward, the master-of-sail certainly chose an overly verbose and roundabout way to present his case. Sjan-dehk sighed. “You should’ve just said that. Alright, I can see your point. What do you suggest?”

“At least until the rest of us have learned enough of the language, and until we know enough of the local customs, we would like it if you could allow us more freedom to act at our own discretion.” Sahm-tehn said and pointed downwards. “You allow Avek to purchase provisions without your final approval, and so we would like to have that same freedom, especially for master Hai-shuun and master Mursi. We would also suggest that you give first officer Azwan the power to mete out punishments in your absence, captain.”

Sjan-dehk nodded slowly as he rubbed his chin. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the notion of removing his hands entirely from the purchase of material and supplies. Provisions were one thing; Avek was the cook, and so it was only natural that he be allowed the freedom to choose his own ingredients. Wood, metal, and whatnot? Those were vital to keeping his Sada Kurau afloat; of course he’d want to have the final say as to what they were going to use to fix her. Neither did he relish the idea of handing over responsibility for his crew’s discipline. He was captain; if a man had to be punished, the least he could do was to do the sentencing himself.

Ultimately, however, Sahm-tehn had a point. Besides, if he couldn’t trust his officers, then why did he even give them their ranks and positions in the first place? Perhaps there was even some good in this; this could prove to be an excellent chance to let them prove their mettle.

“Alright, you have my agreement. While we’re docked and when I’m away, I’ll allow you all to act according to your own judgments. However, if it has to do with killing, setting sail, adding anything to Sada Kurau, or accepting visitors, it will still need my approval and supervision.” Sjan-dehk extended a hand and looked at Sahm-tehn with a raised brow. “Would that be acceptable?”

Sahm-tehn took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “We won’t let you down, captain.”

“You’d better not, otherwise we’re all bloody fucked,” Sjan-dehk said with a quiet laugh. “I’ll let the others know about this after we’re done dealing with the king’s people. Thank you, master Sahm-tehn.”

Sahm-tehn snapped to a salute. “Thank you, captain.”

“One question, though.” Sjan-dehk turned to look down the deck of his ship. Handing over so much control of his ship wasn’t something he particularly relished. It was like giving away his child, but a good captain always listened to their crew and judged their words fairly and without personal misgivings. “If, as you say, none of you are good at the language, how are you going to bloody buy anything without getting cheated to fuck and back?”

“The tutor has taught us well, captain,” Sahm-tehn replied. “We know enough about the currency here and how to do a bit of haggling. Enough to get by, but nothing more than that, captain.”

Sjan-dehk placed his hands on his hips and pursed his lips. “Wish the old bastard would’ve taught me that instead of courtly bullshit. I imagine it’d be a whole lot more useful.” He let out a long sigh. Well, maybe that was the case, but not anymore. He imagined his future was going to involve a lot more courts and royals and all the theatrics that came with it.

But for now, he could put all of that aside. “Well, master Sahm-tehn,” he said and tilted his chin towards the bow. “There’s still two more sails to sort out. Shall we?”

---

Just a short walk away from the docks where the Sada Kurau was moored – and along the very road Sjan-dehk had walked on his way to the castle, in fact – laid a tightly-packed cluster of rickety shacks and huts hugging the coast. Thin roofs fluttered dangerously in the wind, but by either luck or some stroke of engineering genius, none took flight. Old boats, their hulls mottled and tinged green by ocean growth, laid upon the sandy shores where they had been pulled up. Their larger, sail-rigged cousins sat comfortable in the shallows beside makeshift jetties of mismatched wood, whose pillars shivered against the surf.

A quaint fishing village within a city, Sjan-dehk would’ve called it.

Or at least, that was what he hoped it was. It would be quite the wasted trip if it proved to be otherwise.

Rigging his Sada Kurau had been arduous work, and had left his body aching. Sjan-dehk would have liked nothing more than to have a quick rest before the king’s people were due to arrive, but there was still something he needed to do. Something he knew he would forget if he were to put it off any longer. And so, after he had wiped himself clean of sweat and grime, he had thrown on clean tunics from his dwindling supply and made tracks for this little shanty town.

As it had been in the slums earlier, the people here looked at him with curious gazes as he passed. As it hadn’t been in the slums, few – if any – had worry or fear in their eyes. Sjan-dehk had learned his lessons well, and had come unarmed and unarmoured. Largely so, and by his standards, at least. Twin scabbards swished against leather tassets hanging by his legs as he walked. His pistols, snug and secure in their holsters, barely made a sound. They were hardly noticeable, so dulled and worn by age were they that even the metalwork of their locks failed to catch the bright, afternoon sun.

The familiar scent of fresh fish and spilled entrails was heavy in the air, and it only grew more pungent the further he ventured along the labyrinthine streets. Seawater and blood turned dirt paths into mires that squelched against his boots with each step. None of it bothered Sjan-dehk much; it wasn’t anything he wasn’t already used to. Most of Jafi had the same scent, and when it came to the harbour where he had spent much of his time ashore, it was almost identical in every way.

And besides, the smell told him that he had the right idea, if not on the right track.

Eventually, the winding path he followed deposited him on the beach. Dry sand replaced moist dirt, and the briny whiff of the sea overpowered all other scents. Gulls circled above and stood on boats, beady eyes leering at men and women hauling frayed nets laden with fish. The air was buzzing with murmurs of trade and commerce. This had to be the place. Sjan-dehk looked around for anyone who might be in charge. Not too far away stood a young woman surrounded by a small, clamouring crowd. That was as good a place as any to start.

“...just as fecked as ta’ rest o’ youse. I wan’ tae help, but I can no give what I ‘aven’t, ‘tis so ‘tis so.” As he approached, he caught the tail end of her impassioned speech. Fretful and dispirited faces looked away from her. Gradually, the crowd dispersed and she caught sight of Sjan-dehk. The drab shirt and trousers she wore had more discoloured patches than material, and she had her straw-like hair pulled into a messy tail and tucked beneath a cap. “‘Aven’t seen you before–” she began, but the friendliness in her voice and on her face quickly disappeared once she saw the weapons by Sjan-dehk’s sides. “We want no trouble here, ‘tis so. Who you be, and what ‘tis brings you ‘ere?”

Sjan-dehk blinked. Regular Caesonian was already hard enough for him to parse, but this woman’s accent made it practically undecipherable. For a few awkward moments, he stared blankly at her, and the look on her face slowly turned to one of annoyance. Before she could say anything, Sjan-dehk decided to simply introduce himself normally. “Wasun Sjan-dehk.” He placed a hand on his chest and bowed. “Captain of Sada Kurau. You are ah…The leader here?”

The woman arched her brows. “A cap’n, so you are?” She looked almost impressed, but said nothing else on the matter. Instead, she turned her head, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, “Pa!” A man shouted back from somewhere further up the beach. “I ‘ave someone ‘ere lookin’ fer you!” She then looked back at Sjan-dehk and jerked her head towards the sea. “So, that large boat out o’er yonder, ‘tis yours, is it?”

He didn’t need to look to know what she was referring to. “No. That is Sudah.” Specialised shipyards had to be built for her construction, and so erring on the side of caution, her captain had decided to anchor her off-shore rather than bringing her into dock.

Sjan-dehk shifted his stance slightly and pointed to his ship, her stern just visible around the bend at the end of the beach and her mast tops peeking over the lower buildings. “That is mine. Sada Kurau.”

The woman folded her arms and let out a low whistle. “Think I may ‘ave seen it comin’ in. She be lookin’ a fine ship, ‘tis so ‘tis so. Very fancy like. All yours, is she?”

Once again, Sjan-dehk looked at her in confusion. It seemed like a silly question to him, or a tricky one; he wasn’t quite sure which it was. Who else did a ship belong to if not her captain? “Yes, she is,” he replied slowly and carefully. Could this be a local nautical convention which he wasn’t aware of? He would have to find out. “I am her captain, yes? Who else can she ah…Belong to?”

The woman shrugged. “Some folks ‘round ‘ere sail fer ‘ighborn folk. Not all o’ us ‘ave ta’ coin tae ‘ave our own boats, cap’n, so they work fer folks wi’ ta’ coin but no ta’ gall fer sailin’.”

Sjan-dehk furrowed his brow. Owning a ship but letting someone else sail her was a strange concept to him. Would those same people similarly marry their partners but have another be their spouse? Whether bought, given, or captured, a captain had to own their ship in her entirety. Otherwise, what reason would they have for caring about her as much as they should?

Whatever words he had in mind would have to wait, as a man ran up to them. Very much on the thinner side, the clothes hanging off his frame looked to be almost as old as him. What little hair he had clung to his chin and scalp in foggy grey wisps. “Ah, we ‘ave a visitor, ‘ave we?” He managed to gasp out between heaving pants. Sjan-dehk almost reached out to support him when he doubled over and rested his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

His daughter, however, didn’t look concerned in the least. “‘Tis so. Pa, this is..A cap’n. Cap’n, me pa.”

The old man drew in a few deep breaths and stood up. His movements were stiff and deliberate, as if his joints had only just awoken from a long rest. “Welcome, welcome! What can we ‘umble fisherfolk do fer you, cap’n?”

Sjan-dehk offered a quick bow to the man before speaking. “My ship, we need ah…Provisions.”

“Ah, if ‘tis buyin’ you be after, cap’n,’tis better you find yer way tae ta’ market.” The man said and wringed his hands together. “‘At’s where most o’ today’s catch’s goin’. We ‘aven’t been ‘avin’ much luck lately, I’m afraid we ‘ave no tae sell tae you, cap’n. Not ‘ere.”

“No, not here to buy,” Sjan-dehk replied with a shake of his head. “Just want to ask. Next time you set sail to go fish, can we follow? We fish too.”

The man said nothing and wringed his hands even harder, were that possible. Nervousness was written all across his face. He looked at the ground, then at his daughter who glowered at Sjan-dehk. The two were certainly related by blood; this man was confusing Sjan-dehk with his actions as much as his daughter had with her words. “W-well, tis’ like so, w-we can’t–” the man’s hesitant and stuttering words were swiftly cut off by his daughter.

“What pa is tryin’ tae say is no,” she said and crossed her arms. “‘Tis trouble enough tae bring in ta’ catch we need fer sellin’ and feedin’ our own. Another boat’s just given’ us more shite tae deal wi’. An’ yer boat’s large like, ‘ow much you be plannin’ on fishin’?”

“Aislin!” Her father’s protests fell on deaf ears.

Sjan-dehk held up his hands in front of him in an attempt to calm her. “Only what we need. No more.”

“Aye, ‘tis may be so, but ‘ow much is that?” Her piercing gaze was withering, and had Sjan-dehk been of a weaker constitution, he would have surely squirmed beneath it. “Boat that large, surely you be plannin’ on trawlin’, and we folk ‘ere already know ‘ow that ends fer us. You’ll be goin’ ‘ome fat an’ ‘appy while we ‘ave tae starve and ‘ope nobody feckin’ kicks it.”

“We have no nets on Sada Kurau. Only lines. Not ah…Trawling.”

“Well–” Aislin began, but this time it was her father’s turn to interrupt. He stepped in front of her, a clearly forced smile on his face and sweat beading on his forehead. HIs cheeks were largely devoid of colour and he looked as if he was one good shock away from passing out entirely.

“A-apologies fer me daughter, cap’n.” He bowed deeply, and Sjan-dehk found himself having to gently lift him by the shoulders to convince him to straighten himself. “S-she’s rough ‘round the edges but she do be meanin’ well, she does. We ‘ave been ‘avin’ p-problems wi’ our catches lately. Too many boats be comin’ intae our waters, you see. Most o’ what we catch, we ‘ave tae sell to keep things runnin’ what wi’ rent and repairs and such, ‘tis so ‘tis so.”

Sjan-dehk nodded slowly. “There are ah…No other places? For you to fish?”

“We…We can go farther out, but ‘tis dangerous, cap’n.”

“Pirates?”

The man scratched his chin and thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “Can no call ‘em that, tae be honest. They don’t really attack us, they just–”

“Those feckers fleece us fer our coin an’ catch, ‘at’s what they do.” Aislin cut in with barely hidden anger in her words and on her face. “Our boats are no armed, an’ even if we were, we can no do much against a robbin’ boat wi’ their cannons and such. We be more like ‘an not tae lose more ‘an we can gain by sailin’ out that far.”

That was something Sjan-dehk was familiar with. Even in Viserjantan waters, there was no shortage of bandits fitting small cannons onto small skiffs and cutters to extort money from the largely unarmed and unescorted fishing fleets. Pirates in the loosest sense of the word as far as he was concerned, and easily dealt with. “We can protect you,” he said, and that immediately got the attention of Aislin and her father. “If you want to go out to fish. Sada Kurau can protect your boats.”

Aislin narrowed her eyes. “An’ what do you get out o’ this?”

“Fish to eat.” Hadn’t she been listening this whole time? That was all Sjan-dehk wanted.

“You're no gonna be wantin’ payment?”

“We have enough.” Sjan-dehk glanced over at their run-down boats, then at their homes, then back at her with a sympathetic look in his eyes. “And you need the ah…Money more than we do, yes?”

“Save your pity!” Aislin snapped, then drew in a deep breath. “I'm no convinced, ‘tis so. Ne’er ‘ave I met a cap’n who’d ‘elp us folk wi’ out askin’ fer coin or somethin’ shiny like in return. What’s tae stop you from stabbin’ us in ta’ back if you change yer mind out there? You could sink us all wi’ out even battin’ a feckin’ eye if you change yer mind fer whatever reason while we be out there.”

Sjan-dehk was beginning to feel rather annoyed. Just who did she think he was? Did he really seem like the sort who would do something like that? There was caution, then there was paranoia. To him, Aislin jumped between the two like a hare. “We just left one war. We do not want to ah…Start another.”

“But you ‘ave no issue fightin’ pirates an’ such?”

“That is different. That is duty.”

Aislin’s father finally spoke up after his prolonged absence. “If we can go out ‘at far…” He began in a quiet murmur, but it was enough to silence Aislin. “One good catch an’ we’d be good fer eatin’ and payin’ what needs payin’ fer a week at least.” He fell silent for a few moments more, then swallowed hard and looked at Sjan-dehk with as determined a look as he could muster. “We’re puttin’ a lot o’ trust in you, cap’n, but if ‘tis as you say and you’re good on yer word, then ‘tis a risk worth takin’.”

Sjan-dehk placed a hand on his chest, and bowed. “On my honour. We will do as ah...As said.”

A snort from Aislin showed how much faith she had in him. “Honour and talk’s cheap, cap’n.” She sighed and wiped both hands on her trousers. “I still think that ‘tis a bad idea, ‘tis so ‘tis so, but if pa’s willin’ to put ‘is faith in you, well, ‘e’s me pa and ‘e’s ne’er been wrong yet, so ‘e ‘aven’t. I’m no arguin’.”

Her father beamed at her, and looked markedly more relaxed when he turned back to Sjan-dehk. “‘Tis all agreed, then! ‘Tis too late tae go out ‘at far, but we can set off bright an’ early tomorrow if that suits you?”

“Yes, that will be fine.”

“I’ll be knockin’ on yer door ‘fore the sun’s up,” Aislin piped up. “I’m goin’ tae be feckin’ pissed if yer feckin’ oversleep, aye?”

Sjan-dehk did his best to suppress his grin as he looked at her. He didn’t want to make a competition out of something so silly, but if she thought she could catch him asleep, then he’d be more than happy to show her the error of her ways. “We will be ready,” he replied simply with a curt nod. That was another objective complete, and one less thing he had to worry about. Tomorrow was shaping out to be quite the interesting day, to say the least.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Mentions: @Tae Saiya

A sheepish smile found its way onto Sjan-dehk’s face. “You are…Most kind, your ladyship,” he said with a short and muted laugh. There was a fluster in his voice, and he waved his hands in front of him as if he were warding off the compliment. Such words were opponents he never quite learnt how to deal with. All the more so when it came to ones he felt were undeserved. Once more, he bowed his head to Saiya in gratitude. He had a little grin on his face when he straightened himself. “But maybe ah…Unfair? To the city. Big place, yes? Many people. I…Hope there are more good people here.”

It was a wish for the both of them. Provisioning and maintaining a ship was expensive business, and all it would take would be an unscrupulous carpenter, smith, or merchant to make it even more costly. Possibly deadly, even. True, such people were rife even throughout the Viserjantan islands, but at least Sjan-dehk had learnt – through many, many painful lessons – how to play their game. Here? The Caesonian way of doing things was utterly alien to him. He could be fleeced and he’d never know it.

Well, it was just another problem for him to solve. At least he had Avek; that man could be tasked with procuring spiced wine and pickled vegetables, and somehow return with several extra tuns of rice wine and salted meat. Sjan-dehk hoped his skills would translate well to this entirely new city.

And that brought his mind back to his most pertinent task at hand. His crew still needed orders. Wandering the city with Saiya was out of the question, but he could at least accompany for some small part of the way. “Then ah…Please let me walk with you to the gates.” People were still pouring through the archway in an endless torrent. Surely they couldn’t all be here for the king and his sons? Sjan-dehk shook his head slightly. Being royalty wasn’t easy. It was times like these that made him thankful for his low rank.

As usual, Sjan-dehk casually rested a hand on the pommel of his sword. “You can ah…Hold…” He trailed off and tilted his head towards his free arm. “If you want.” From what he was seeing, that was how men and women walked together in this city. Better for him to get used to it sooner rather than later.

At the mention of his Sada Kurau, Sjan-dehk beamed. Beautiful was putting it lightly; she was absolutely gorgeous. The comeliest of ships he had ever laid eyes upon, and he had seen many ships. “Yes, Sada Kurau is very beautiful,” he began, but stopped himself before he could launch into a soliloquy extolling his darling ship’s virtues. Saiya had a question and request he needed to answer. “We should be here for ah…A few weeks. You are welcome to visit. Would be my…Pleasure to show you Sada Kurau.”

There. Now he could extoll.

And that was what he did. As they walked, he spoke at length about his ship. About how her svelte lines met the water with such grace; how her alluring, narrow figure sat upon the waves, and how her beautiful curves could break and ride even the roughest swells the sea could throw at her; how she sang her quiet, whispering song to her crew every time her billowing sails caught the wind at just the right speed and angle. But she wasn’t just a pretty ship. No, Sada Kurau was also a fearsome warrioress. Whenever she chased her prey, only an expert hand and deft touch on her ropes could control her. Only the best sailor could keep her dancing like a butterfly about her enemies; always just out of reach, but constantly spitting fire and steel. Only the most patient would learn of her wonderful qualities, of her quirks, and realise that they only made her all the more beautiful.

Truly, Sjan-dehk couldn’t ask for a better partner. The Gods and his Ancestors could offer him the finest divine vessel, built from the peach wood and rigged with braided silk, but he would still choose his one and only Sada Kurau.

It was only when they passed beneath the portcullis did he realise that he had been practically speaking about his ship non-stop since they started walking. That realisation came with a deep blush that climbed up his neck, and he looked away. “Apologies, I did not mean to ah…Talk so much.” It had been such a long time since he could talk about his ship to anyone – everyone he knew either crewed the Sada Kurau themselves, or had their ears talked off about the ship ages ago – but it wasn’t much of an excuse. He brought a fist to his mouth and coughed into it. “Rude of me.”

He stepped away from Saiya and, placing his hand on his chest, offered her a deep bow. “Have a good day, your ladyship,” he said and stood back up, a friendly – albeit still somewhat awkward – smile on his face. “It was my…Pleasure to meet with you. Hope to meet again. You are welcome to ah…Come on to Sada Kurau when you want.”

With a tip of hat towards her, he turned on his heel, and was off.

–

“Master Hai-shuun!”

The heavy thuds of Sjan-dehk’s boots against the wooden pier were matched only by the loudness of his voice. His carpenter peeked his head over the gunwale of the Celestine, face covered with sawdust and dark hair matted and glistening with sweat. “Welcome back, captain!” He shouted over the cacophony of hammering and sawing behind him, and the shouts and yells coming from the Sada Kurau just to the left of Sjan-dehk. “Do we know what to do with the Celestine?”

“Make her look pretty for now, master Hai-shuun!” Sjan-dehk stopped, craning his head back to look up at the man. “This city’s run by a damn king, and he’s sending people down to have a look, so stop all big repairs and just patch up her hull. I’ve already told him what a shitheap she is, so hopefully whoever he sends won’t be expecting much.” He paused, placing both hands on his hips and looking between his feet, tongue clicking as he tried to remember what else he had to tell Hai-shuun. “Oh, right, and have the prisoners ready to disembark!”

Hai-shuun let out a low whistle. “A king? I thought a duke ran this place. How long do we have?”

Sjan-dehk looked up, shading his eyes with a hand and squinting at the sun. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, then looked back at Hai-shuun. “Not long. Less than two hours at most, and that’s if they show up exactly on time.”

The carpenter didn’t immediately reply. Instead, he looked over his shoulder, mouth moving in an inaudible mutter and fingers tapping an irregular beat against the Celestine. When he looked back, his concern was plainly visible on his face. “That’s not a lot of time, captain, and with thirteen pairs of hands gone, I’m not sure I can make her–” he patted his hand against the ship “–looking even reasonably presentable. I might be able to get it done if you send me more crew from Sada Kurau.”

“I can’t send much, they’ll be coming aboard Sada Kurau as well.” Sjan-dehk spat out a curse beneath his breath after his response. He should have foreseen this; his crew was good, but not good enough to have two ships ready for inspection in such a short amount of time. True, he was in a rush to settle the issue of the Celestine, but he still should have argued for at least one or two hours more to prepare.

But he didn’t, and so he had to work with what he had. He closed his eyes and tapped a rapid beat with his foot against the pier. “Okay,” he let out a long breath and said. “I can send Azwan and Sohn-Dahn over with half of the gun crew and all of the boys. It’s mostly rigging work we’ve to do on Sada Kurau, so I think Sahm-tehn and I should be able to handle it with his men pulling most of the weight.”

“What about Avek? That lout’s doing nothing, last I saw.”

Sjan-dehk shook his head. “Not for long, he’s not. I’m sending him over to Sudah to bring some stuff back here to show the king’s people.”

Hai-shuun guffawed. “Him? Are you sure, captain?”

That got a mirthless chuckle from Sjan-dehk. In truth, he wasn’t sure either. Avek might be a good haggler and better talker, but the sort of people aboard the Sudah weren’t the most receptive or accepting of his ways, to put it simply. “I’ll have Mursi go with him as well.” With their combined expertise, they should be able to bring back a varied selection of goods for Edin’s men to have a look at. The master-at-arms would also be able to help communicate with the crew of the Sudah should Avek prove to be too uncouth for their overly-refined tastes. “If you need, I can have the sharpshooters over to help.”

“Don’t bother, they’re all helpless with this sort of work,” Hai-shuun called back. He still looked unsure but nodded anyway. “I can’t promise miracles, captain, but I’ll do my best to make this tub look decent.”

Sjan-dehk gave him a thumbs up and a smile. “The best is all I can ask for, master Hai-shuun.”

The carpenter snapped to a smart salute, then returned to his duties. From the pier, Sjan-dehk could hear him barking off a litany of orders in rapid succession. Even as he fast-marched himself to his ship, his hands were already loosening the straps and strings of his belts and armour. By the time he ascended the gangplank, he could just shrug off his belts and pull his armour up and over his head. “Thank you,” he said with a nod to the crewmen who picked up his effects. “Bring them to my quarters, please. Except the carbine, that one goes to master Mursi's workshop.”

He rolled up his sleeves and began making his way to the quarterdeck. The yards were still laying on the deck, their sails untied and still in the process of being checked for frays and tears. Loose ropes laid about like coiled snakes. Unhitched tackles and hooks hung from guardrails, and tools laid strewn everywhere as was the men who used them. A long sigh left Sjan-dehk’s lips. It was going to take a lot of work to get his Sada Kurau ready for the king’s men.

Well, then he had better pull his weight as well. He secured his sleeves just above his elbow and raced up the steps onto the quarterdeck. “All officers to the quarterdeck on the double!”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Mentions: @Tae Saiya

Perhaps Sjan-dehk needn’t have spoken so much. Eloquent and with a graceful sort of force, Saiya was clearly more than capable of holding her own against the women. Granted, Sjan-dehk understood roughly half of what she was saying, but the reaction from the crowd before the two of them told him all that he needed to know. He stood back with a hand on his sword and lips upturned in a roguish grin. Bark-brown eyes filled with mischief peered from beneath his hat at the crowd. Watching the proud and haughty be humbled was almost as enjoyable as doing the deed himself.

And Saiya was clearly adept at the craft. Even the lone woman who had gathered enough courage to attempt a rebuttal was quickly cowed into silence. He had no idea what a ‘Sultan’ or ‘Grand Vizier’ was, or what had happened the night before, but whatever it was, it worked. Hiding the wide, smug smirk that came over his face with a hand, Sjan-dehk watched the woman’s confidence shatter and the colour quickly drain from her face. So taken was he by the scene that he didn’t even notice Saiya’s arm looped around his until she started leading them both to the exit.

Sjan-dehk followed. As they passed beneath the lintel, he looked back over his shoulder at the gathered women with a cheeky grin. “Be more polite to the princes, yes?” He pulled his hat ever-so-slightly lower over his eyes and turned back around before he could see their reactions.

No one could say Wasun Sjan-dehk of Jafi was entirely without manners.

The sound of melodic laughter from the lady beside him pulled some chuckles from his throat. He looked back at Saiya as she thanked him, and whatever worries and concerns he had about subtly threatening an entire group of well-to-do women vanished the moment he saw the radiant smile upon her pretty face. If it made someone that happy, whatever he did couldn’t have been too bad. At least, he would be able to live with the consequences. Hopefully the rest of the trade delegation aboard the Sudah would agree.

If it even came to it. There was no point worrying over a possibility.

For now, he was quickly becoming very aware of Saiya. The heat washing over his cheeks was becoming a little too hard to ignore. The sea may have stolen his heart, but it hadn’t taken much else. It surely hadn’t taken his body’s natural reactions. Besides, it had been such a long time since he had been this close to a woman who wasn’t either of his sisters. An understandable, albeit embarrassing, response.

Sjan-dehk gently pulled his arm free and turned to face her fully, then bowed. “No need to thank me. It was nothing. Was…” He racked his mind for a good way to phrase his words. To say that he had helped Saiya out of the goodness of his heart would be a half-truth at best, but to say that he had done it solely out of obligation would also be wrong. There was a moral aspect to it all, and it was an aspect that Sjan-dehk felt sorely ill-equipped to properly describe. “Was the Way,” was the best he could manage. “Is what should be done. So no need to ah…Repay. You owe nothing.”

The flush was just about gone from his face when he stood up, replaced by a grin tugging at his lips. “You helped too, no? Strong words. Your father–” He held up a fist in front of him and clenched it. “– must be very strong too. The women, their faces were white. Like rice not cooked.” A quiet, close-lipped chuckle rumbled in his throat at that memory. “Very ah…Funny to see.”

He looked towards the castle gates, momentarily distracted by the cacophony of a myriad pairs of shoes against cobblestone. Throngs of people were still coming through in clumps and trickles, no doubt hopeful suitors seeking a chance for a prince’s heart. Sjan-dehk furrowed his brow. Much as he wanted to return to his Sada Kurau in haste, leaving Saiya here just felt wrong. As if he had just saved a person from a shark only to leave them to fend for themselves in the same infested waters. A job half-done, and as his father liked to say, that may as well be a job not done.

That simply would not do. Sjan-dehk started this, so he’d be damned if he didn’t finish it properly. Turning back to Saiya, he bowed his head briefly. “I must return to Sada Kurau,” he said, tone almost apologetic. It wouldn’t do to be dishonest, either. "But I can ah...Walk with you to where you will go. If you want. Would be my pleasure.”